


Option-al

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-14
Updated: 2002-03-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Donna weighs her options





	Option-al

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Option-al**

**by:** Evelyn 

**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna  
**Rating: YTEEN**  
**Summary:** A sequel to "Options" and "More Options". Donna weighs her options.  
**Notes:** Special thanks to Shelley, for her continuing encouragement.  


I was in seventh grade when I first realized that a girl needed to have options. I "liked liked" Ricky Warner, a gangly guy in my math class who had the cutest head of unruly brown curls and the softest brown eyes. And his dimples? Craters, I'm telling you, so deep that when he smiled, your spine tingled and your heart got fluttery. Does this seem oddly familiar? Unfortunately Ricky had the hots for Beth McElvoy. Of course, all the seventh grade boys had the hots for Beth McElvoy. She was built like Pamela Anderson, before the implants were removed, and I was built like Gumby. 

One Sunday afternoon, I lay on my pink flowered bedspread, under my New Kids on the Block poster, and considered my options. With a plan in hand, I was prepared to enter the fray. The next morning, I dressed carefully in my battle uniform which consisted of a grey mini- skirt with matching knee high socks, and my favorite pink sweater which had a slightly new look to it thanks to my mother's bra which had been stuffed with an entire box of Kleenex tissues. I also sported enough blue eyeshadow to paint the living room ceiling. And I might have gotten away with it had I moved a little faster. Alas, my father's bellowing of "Donnatella Moss, where the hell do you think you are going dressed like that?" halted the battle plans before they even started and I was back contemplating my options.

Well, I knew I couldn't compete in the swimsuit competition with Ms. McElvoy, so I decided to focus on my strengths and Ricky's weaknesses. I realized that I could bake and he, like any other teen boy, loved to eat. So on Tuesday morning I showed up with homemade chocolate chip cookies, shyly offered to share, and while he still sat with Beth at lunch, he did so eating my cookies. On Wednesday morning, I arrived at school with oatmeal raisin bars, which he readily devoured, but only after asking me if I'd seen the most recent episode of Saved by the Bell. We discussed briefly the principal on the show, Mr. Belding, and the nerd Screech, but still at lunch he sat with Beth. On Thursday morning, I brought my piece de resistance, homemade brownies with finely ground walnuts sprinkled throughout. I sat down at the lunch table, carefully arranged my tunafish sandwich, carrot sticks, carton of milk, and two brownies in front of me and patiently waited. Beth sauntered into the lunchroom and sat down at the next table. She pulled out her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and juice box and spread them out before her. Then Ricky walked in. Looked at Beth, looked at me and my lunch fare, and what can I say? Beth McElvoy was toast, and Ricky Warner was mine. 

Now, fifteen years later, it's almost midnight on a Monday night, after a long, exhausting day at the office. I lay on my pink flowered bedspread, under a poster of Van Gogh's sunflowers, reviewing my options. The object of my affection has brown curly hair, soft brown eyes, the best butt in Washington, D.C., and dimples the size of the Grand Canyon. Alas, he's as clueless as Ricky Warner. But I've got a plan to capture the heart of Joshua Lyman. And thanks to Victoria's Secret, I don't even need any Kleenex. 

But I do think I'll start baking. Nothing says loving like something from the oven. 

Hmmm, we'll begin on Tuesday with chocolate chip cookies, always a favorite. Just two, left on his desk, without coffee, of course. He can get his own. I want to capture his heart but not turn into a Stepford Wife. 

Then Wednesday, I'll make miniature linzer tortes. Raspberries, the symbol of love. Maybe just one, centered on his desk. I'll have to clean off the desk of course to show it to the best advantage, but the visual impact will be worth it.

For Thursday, I'll bring on the heavy artillery. Those chocolate brownies, with the finely ground walnuts throughout. Moist and delicious - just like....well, enough with the imagery.

Then I'll suggest a home-made dinner for Friday night. To begin, oysters on the half shell. An aphrodisiac for lovers? No, too obvious. Definitely, a salad, since the man wouldn't know a vegetable if he fell over one. Grilled halibut steaks, baked potatoes, and then for dessert. Well, dessert can be optional. He can have chocolate cream pie with whipped cream or...maybe just whipped cream and me. Yep, a girl just has to know her options. 

Sequel: Option-less


End file.
